Geometric
by Jack's Shadow
Summary: Torchwood and Martha Jones come across an old enemy, and call in an old friend.


Even Torchwood has a social call from time to time, especially with Jack Harkness as their leader. They're just settling into Martha's visit. The team doesn't miss the little looks that pass between her and Jack; a year of torture and silent communication flitting about in the tiniest of glances. There's a history there, something painful and deep, but nothing festering, nothing thinly veiled. It will take time, but they'll heal.

They gather around the table with their pizza boxes. Martha is telling a convoluted story from the time she and Doctor were stranded in 1969. It features Woodstock, illegal substances (and their amusing effects on alien species), a fruit cart, and Pete Townshend. The response from the team is riotous – even Owen cracks a wide smile.

And, predictably, it all goes to hell. The rift alarm goes off with a loud and impressive racket intended to command attention. Smiles disappear like ghosts as everyone charges towards the Hub behind Tosh. Jack drags Martha along, explaining the monitor on the way.

Tosh works quickly, pulling up complex and seemingly meaningless charts. "There's been a major spike in the energy. And it's not far away at all – I'd say four, five blocks." Jack flashes perfect, shining white teeth. "Up for a little adventure, Ms. Jones?"

They leave Ianto and Tosh behind and go for it on foot. As Tosh issues a proximity warning in their earpieces, they slow and fall into a practiced formation. Martha has been military long enough to mimic their careful slinking around the buildings.

Owen and Gwen find him first. It's a man – apparently human, Caucasian, clad in battered hoodie and jeans – lying facedown on the cold pavement just inside an alleyway. His hair is filthy and matted, bleached white-blond. What stands out, though, are the perfect geometric shapes carved across his left arm, his only visible skin. Triangles, circles and hexagons interlock in complex and beautiful patterns, gleaming white scars.

When Jack and Martha arrive, they exchange heavy looks. "Check for signs of life." The captain's face is inscrutable. Owen grunts and lays a finger on the man's carotid. "Definitely alive. He's got a four-beat heartbeat – alien, I'd say."

"Maybe he's regenerated," Martha ventures. She is both afraid and afraid to hope it's him. Jack takes the man's shoulder and rolls him over carefully, his touch almost tender. He and Martha both jump back when they see the man's dirty, stubble-covered face.

"Isn't that the former Prime Minister? Harold Saxon?" Gwen peers more closely at him, obviously curious. "Looks like," Martha says, her voice tight.

She turns toward Jack. "Don't kill him yet. Let me call him." Jack is silent. Something far past anger is fuming in his eyes. His hand lingers at his gun belt. "We need to call him." She is trying to convince herself, too. He meets her eyes. "I can't _believe _this." His voice is dark.

Owen makes a demand for information that everyone ignores while Jack gruffly whispers instructions to Ianto over the comm. The Master sleeps.

Twenty minutes later, the Master is triple deadlocked in a holding cell. The team stands in front, quietly watching the man dream. His face twitches, and he makes a tiny, pathetic keening sound. Tosh winces.

One by one, they wander back to their stations, leaving Jack and Gwen. Martha lingers a moment, but at Jack's suggestion she finally heads aboveground to make the call.

"Why do you hate him so much?" Jack doesn't respond at first. A few mumbled words in a strange language come from the cell. "He died three months ago." He doesn't say "and he should've stayed that way." Gwen hears it anyway. She touches his arm gently and does not ask again.

The Doctor comes in through the shop entrance, skipping cheerfully behind a stoic Ianto. He cracks a brilliant grin, shouts, and jumps around erratically when he sees Martha. She musters a smile in return. She's known him too long not to see the worry in his dark eyes; he's been called here without a clue other than "It's important".

She tries to tell him, when he asks what's going on. She really does, but it's like the words are sticking in her throat. She remembers this man screaming his grief and rage over a body. It wasn't long ago that he held a gun to a murderer's head, and she had looked into his hot and empty eyes and seen something inhuman. She doesn't know what will happen when he sees the Master, and it scares her badly.

"Just come and look."


End file.
